


A Work of Art

by jujitsuelf



Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Tattoos, comic-verse, kind of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Way back when Jensen first joined the Losers, Clay eyed the tattoos on his shoulder and arms...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Work of Art

**Author's Note:**

> Warning - while I normally refuse to admit that the ending of the comic ever happened, this bunny bit me and demanded I write it in the comic-verse. So yeah, people die, my apologies. But if you've read the comics, you already know that, right?
> 
> Feedback welcomed like ice cream on a hot day
> 
> *********
> 
> Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended
> 
> *********

Way back when Jensen first joined the Losers, Clay eyed the tattoos on his shoulder and arms.

 

“Nice ink,” he’d said.

 

“Thanks,” Jensen remembered replying.

 

Clay had smiled, that intensely smarmy smirk which Jensen later learned meant he was being serious and wanted to hide it. “One thing. Never tattoo anyone’s name on you, kid. It’s just askin’ for trouble and believe me, you’ve already got more of that than you can deal with just by bein’ one of us, you don’t need any extra.”

 

Jensen had nodded, said, “Okay,” and gone back to wondering how in the hell he’d landed in an outfit like the Losers. Was he the luckiest son of a bitch in creation or what?

 

Later, much later, after firefights, close shaves, bad ops and jobs from hell, Cougar had looked at him with enough heat in his eyes to melt adamantium. (Yes, Jensen was a geek and proud of it.) While he never intended to sleep with a colleague, hell, this was  _Cougar_. Who in their right mind would say no?

 

Clay noticed, of course. He noticed everything but called his men on very little. After a few months, when neither Jensen nor Cougar had slipped up and made their personal thing accidentally public, he took Jensen aside. Slapping him on the shoulder, Clay said, “Remember the tattoo thing I mentioned ages ago? Well, that doesn’t apply to Cougar. If you’re fool enough to screw it up with him, you deserve to live with his name on your ass for the rest of your life.”

 

Now, with the world shot to shit and practically everyone he ever cared about dead, Jensen walks into a tattoo shop. He’s not there for anything big or flashy or over the top. He doesn’t need to scream his grief to the world, nobody else needs to know it took a nuclear bomb to take Cougar down. He grits his teeth as the artist etches Cougar’s full name down the ridge of his spine. It hurts like hell and Jensen laughs at the pain.


End file.
